Secondary Causes
by dcat8888
Summary: An alternative universe story....Mark, Milt, Nancy and Tommy.


Secondary Causes

by dcat

Author's Note: I usually don't go quite this far off the 'cannon' into an alternative universe, however, I had the unfortunate experience of witnessing something within the past few weeks that not only spurred me to do something, but also kept at me to write about….so here is the second result and I hope and pray that the first result is as happy as this story turns out to be! And if I can say one more thing from the soapbox, if you see something happening…tell someone. (Now stepping off!)

I do not own the characters of Hardcastle and McCormick.

Here's to the little bit of 'Hardcastle' in each one of us!

OOOOO

"God's universal providence works through secondary causes . . . The world of pure spirits stretches between the Divine Nature and the world of human beings; because Divine Wisdom has ordained that the higher should look after the lower, Angels execute the Divine plan for human salvation: they are our Guardians, who free us when hindered and help to bring us home." …St. Thomas Aquinas

OOOO

The little boy had spent the better part of two days being carted, dragged walked, flown and seat belted into cars and planes. It was a rather huge undertaking to get a six-year-old boy from one coast of the country to another. It was 1962 and there weren't too many non-stop flights from New York to Los Angeles, so that meant boarding and unboarding across many of the nation's airports and not too many people let a six-year old do it without a parent or guardian, but the unusual situation warranted it. The unusual circumstances tried everyone's patience, but it was the best they all could do given the rare state of affairs.

His parent was on the East coast and his guardian to be was on the West. His parent, his Mom had passed away, cancer took her way too early and his father was unable to be located. The little boy needed a family. And he needed one sooner than later. Unfortunately it had been too long as far as Milt Hardcastle was concerned.

Meanwhile, on the west coast, a friend of a friend of a friend of the mother had heard the story and decided he and his wife could do something about it. They'd take the little boy into their family and along with their nearly 12-year old son, Tommy, they'd welcome the chance to have two young boys to raise. It took nearly seven long months to finalize all the legal paper work. Seven long months that left the boy in the hands of strangers and the State of New Jersey. The guardian-to-be wasn't happy about how much time had elapsed.

The boy's name was Mark McCormick.

The final plane was due to arrive from Denver at any moment. It was already approaching 11pm. The little boy had left his former home almost two days earlier. The airline assured Mr. and Mrs. Hardcastle that a stewardess had been assigned to him at every gate and for every flight. At no time would he ever be left alone.

Milt Hardcastle had recently been promoted from beat cop to sergeant for the LAPD and he also was attending night school in order to get a law degree. He would have flown out himself but he was also currently on a three week medical leave from his police job. He had taken a ricochet bullet to the fleshy part of his lower back. The doctor said he would fully recover, but he needed the three weeks for rest followed by therapy. And no trans-continental flying.

His wife, Nancy was primarily a homemaker, devoted to her husband and son and also involved in a number of philanthropic activities in the Malibu community. Her parents were wealthy and left her and her sister Deidra financially set for life. Deidra lived up the coast, while Nancy and Milt had moved into the family home at Gulls Way, a seaside estate, after her parents had passed.

Living in the fancy house initially bothered Milt, who never was used to having much, as he'd grown up a sharecropper in Arkansas, but Nancy insisted, not wanting to lose or sell the beautiful family home to strangers. Nancy was more down to earth than anyone Milt had ever met. There was no way he could ever say no to her, so they moved in and made it their home. By the time their son Tommy came along, they were happy and comfortable with their decision. And Tommy loved the house. They had a pool, a huge yard and best of all, a pathway that led down to the ocean.

And so they sat, all three of them, waiting impatiently for the arrival of flight 4078 from Denver, Colorado.

"Dad, when's it gonna get here?" Tommy must have asked for the 17th time.

"It should be here very soon now. Denver to LA doesn't take too long," Milt said to him. He knew he was not only getting fidgety, but tired as well.

"Should we take another walk up and down the concourse Tommy?" his Mom asked him.

"Nah, there's nothing open anyway. We're practically the only ones in the whole airport," Tommy replied.

"How about if Mom buys you a can of pop? We'll split it, how'd that be?"

"Really? This late? Yeah! Geez this must be a special occasion. You've never let me have a pop this late before."

Milt dug some change out of his pocket, "Yeah, and don't forget it either, or it might be the last." He handed a dollar's worth of change to his son, who quickly got up from the seat and went off to find a vending machine.

"I'll go with him," Nancy said, with a bit of look of admonishment for her husband.

All right, they were all tired, and nervous and apprehensive about the arrival and they all had their own way to deal with how they felt. Milt liked to buy things. Nancy liked to walk and Tommy, well he fidgeted while taking advantage of the walking and the buying.

While they were gone, Milt went over to check the nearby arrival board. There it was #4078 from Denver, set to arrive in about fifteen minutes.

He'd only seen a picture of the kid. It had been a snapshot from two years earlier, alongside his mom, standing on the boardwalk in Atlantic City. It was a black and white shot that was pretty grainy and hard to make anything out. He knew he wouldn't recognize the boy from having seen it. At that age till now, a boy went through a lot of changes.

Tommy came charging back with a can of root beer, handing the change back to his father, as well as an offer to take a sip. Milt obliged and gave his hair a bit of a tossel.

"Dad, I know you and Mom think that I won't get along with Mark, but I promise that I'll try. I'm not jealous or nothing like that. I actually think it'll be fun to have a little brother."

Milt and Nancy had talked to Tommy endlessly about the whole situation before they even made a decision and this was the first time that he'd said anything quite so positive.

"A lot of guys at school have little brothers, younger than he is, so I think it'll be okay. I mean, he can talk and everything, right?"

"I'm glad to hear that you've resolved yourself to making this work Tom," Milt said to him.

"I figure that I can play catch and stuff with him when you aren't around, right Dad?"

"Sure, that'll be fine, but you have to remember he's a bit younger than you, your ability level is a bit higher."

"Aw, I know all that stuff, but I can teach him all sorts of stuff, stuff that you taught me and maybe Mom will even let us go down to the beach without her? I can watch out for him and stuff."

Tommy Hardcastle was a shrewd negotiator who loved to use the word 'stuff' way too much. "We'll have to see about that one Champ," Milt said.

The loudspeaker announced that Flight 4078 from Denver had landed.

"It's about time. Hey, should I save some of this soda for Mark?" He held up the can.

"No, go ahead and finish it Tommy. We can get another one if need be."

OOOOO

He was the first one off the plane, refusing to hold the hand of the stewardess who busy trying to keep right along side of him. Barely half the size of Tommy, with a head full of light brown curls on his head. He wore a pair of blue jeans, a blue t-shirt and a green jacket and on his feet were his prized possession, a pair of Chuck Taylor's, black high-tops. The look on his face was just as priceless. It was almost cocky and distrustful.

Nancy thought he looked like a junior hoodlum, straight out of _West Side Story_, though she kept her comments to herself. After being carted around for seven months, who could blame him?

The stewardess walked him over. "Mr. and Mrs. Hardcastle? This is Mark McCormick. Mark, this is Mr. and Mrs. Hardcastle and their son Tommy."

Mark stuck out his nonchalant hand without giving any of them a direct look and without saying a word.

Milt took the tiny hand and shook it. "Welcome to California Mark, we're glad you're here."

Tommy reached over and shook his hand as well, just like his Dad had. "You're gonna love our house. We got a pool and everything."

Mark glanced over to Nancy and she gave him a warm smile. His face was virtually blank.

The stewardess leaned over to Nancy and said. "He's probably exhausted. He hasn't closed his eyes since we left Atlantic City."

"Has he eaten anything?" Nancy asked her back.

"Very little. I think he's overwhelmed with all the traveling and waiting and such."

Milt stepped in, "Well, we've got it from here, thank you Miss. They're sending his luggage right to the house correct?"

"Yes sir, it should arrive in the morning."

"Okay fellas, let's get on home then," Milt said, as he put his arms around both boy's shoulders, encouraging them to move along. Mark flinched a little as he felt Milt's hand. "Are you hungry Mark?" The little boy answered with a shrug. "I bet that means you'd like a candy bar?"

Tommy leaned forward to see Mark's reaction, since he didn't seem to be doing too much talking. He knew he himself wanted one. He was thoroughly enjoying this seemingly 'new' father, even if it was only for a day. First a soda, now perhaps a candy bar this late at night? He caught a hint of 'wanting' on Mark's face and he spun around to tell his father. "I think he want one Dad. Can I get one too?"

"Whatta ya think Mark, would you like one?" Milt really wanted to get the kid talking.

Mark turned ever so slightly. "Yes," he said and he added a nod.

"Ah, you can talk, that answers that question," Milt said with a chuckle.

"Me too Dad?" Tommy asked.

"Yep, of course! Mom, would you like one too?" Milt asked as they passed by a vending machine.

"At this hour?" Nancy said. "Honestly Milt?" Then seeing the boys waiting happily to make their selections, she relented. "Okay, why not?"

"Tommy, what would you like?" Milt asked him.

"Snicker bar," Tommy said pointing to it.

"All right, here you go," Milt gave him the money in, and Tommy quickly made his selection. "That's a good choice Champ."

"Mark, what about you?" Mark tried to look high and low to check at all the options. "Can you see them all, or do you need a boost?" Milt asked.

Mark turned and said, "I can't see the ones at the top." Milt picked him up so that he could see everything. Nancy cringed when she saw him pick him up because of his back. He saw her reaction and gave her a smile to let her know that his back was okay and that everything was fine. "How's that? High enough?" Mark gave him a nod.

He thought about picking the Snicker bar too, like Tommy had, but in the end, he made his own choice. "Hershey Bar with nuts," he said.

"Hey, that's a good one too," Milt said. He handed him some change and let him slide the coins in himself. "Go ahead, select B-7," he said. Mark found the letter and the number and Milt set him down to retrieve his selection from the tray. Nancy picked a packet of Nibs, while Milt selected a Milky Way. "All right? Everyone happy now? Let's head for home."

Tommy was non-stop chatter all the way down the concourse and into the parking lot. Mark watched every move he made and hung on every word that came out of his mouth. Milt and Nancy followed them from behind.

"It looks like they're going to get along fine," Milt said watching them. "George and Mary said that he's pretty talkative once he gets to know you," Milt said to Nancy.

"Well, I'm sure he's feeling a bit out of sorts right now Milton. You heard the stewardess, he didn't sleep and he barely ate anything. Getting moved across the country to live with folks he's never met or even seen before. Would you feel talkative?"

"I guess not," Milt paused and watched the two boys, "Was Tommy that tiny when he was six?"

"Tommy wasn't that tiny when he was four dear. He takes after you, large bones and all."

Milt scrunched up his face and scowled, not entirely pleased with the tone of her comment. "Well, some of this California air and your good cooking will fatten him right up."

"He's not a piece of livestock honey, he's a little boy, who's probably scared and frightened and wondering what's gonna happen to him next."

Up ahead, Tommy had taken care of his Snicker bar in about forty four seconds flat. Mark on the other hand was taking his time through the Hershey Bar with Almonds.

"I bet my Dad will make you a sandwich once we get home if you want one, do you want one?" Tommy asked.

"No, this is enough," he held up the partially eaten candy bar.

"Mom said that you lived in New Jersey on the Atlantic Ocean. Did you get to go there?"

"Sure, lots of times. They got a Ferris wheel and a carnival."

"Hey that's cool! Our beach don't have none of that sort of thing. I want to learn how to surf."

"Me too!" Mark said brightly.

"Maybe we can learn together. Dad will probably let us take lessons! Come on, let's go ask him." They ran back towards Milt and Nancy. "Dad, can me and Mark take surfing lessons?"

"Surfing lessons?"

"Yeah," Tommy rolled his eyes and waited for the answer.

"Well, we'll have to see about that, can we just get home first?"

"Please Dad, Mark said he wants to too!"

"Tommy, we'll talk about surfing lessons tomorrow, all right?" Nancy said.

They reached the parking structure. "No running through here you guys, we don't want any car accidents," Milt said.

"My Dad's a cop," Tommy began. "But don't worry, his rules aren't so bad. And Mom keeps him in line too."

They found the car and the two boys climbed into the back seat for the ride from LAX to Malibu.

It wasn't too long into the freeway drive, when Tommy leaned forward between his Mom and Dad and announced, "Mark's out cold." He thumbed his way toward Mark.

"Whatta ya mean out cold? What'd ya do to him?" Milt tried to look. Nancy shooed him back to his driving.

"He means he's just sleeping, that's all," Nancy said, checking on him in the backseat. "Tommy, give me the rest of his candy bar, so it doesn't melt all over him." Tommy did as he was told.

"Boy, maybe you should have gotten him a pop too Dad, that makes me stay awake."

"We know it does," Milt's voice had a slight irritation to it. "Just sit back and keep an eye on him huh?"

Tommy rolled his eyes, "It's not like he's gonna fall out of the car, sheesh!"

OOOOO

Milt drove the sedan right up to the front door. Tommy quickly got out and headed for the front door and Nancy peered into the back seat.

"He's still 'out cold' dear," she chuckled.

"I'll get him, just get the door will ya?" Milt answered.

Nancy nodded, "Are you sure?"

"He's as light as a feather and I'm fine, you already noticed it yourself, how little he is." He opened up the back seat door of the sedan. "I think I can manage carrying him up to bed."

"I'm just concerned that you'll overdo it to your back."

"I'm going back to work on Monday," he rose up from stooping over and answered her over the top of the car. "I'm fine."

"Mom, come on, please? I gotta use the bathroom."

"Just be careful!" Nancy added one more reminder as she headed up the front steps.

Milt went back to the task at hand. He peered in at the kid and saw that he was still sleeping. Part of him hated to pick him up, for fear that the movement would wake him up and even worse, not remember the circumstances of the situation and become frightened. He sure didn't want him to wake up screaming. Well, he couldn't let the kid sleep in the car all night, he was going to have to scoop him up and get him inside. There was no way around it. "Alright Sport, let's get you into a real honest to goodness bed." He reached into the car and gathered up the little boy in his arms. Mark gave no sign of waking up. That was good, Milt thought. Milt pulled him out across the seat and cradled him in his arms, till he stood up straight and realized he'd be a little easier to carry him over his shoulder so he began to make the adjustment and Mark must have known instinctively what was happening because he actually helped Milt by putting his little arms around his shoulders to hug him, while Milt lifted and shifted him against his chest., letting the boy's head rest on his shoulder. He still gave no sign of waking up. "Thatta boy, there you go, now we'll get you to a real bed." He gently closed the car door with a free hand and headed inside and up the stairs. "Nancy? Which room are we putting him in?" He softly spoke down the empty hallway.

"Down here, next to Tommy's room," came the answer from one of the open doors.

Milt followed the sound of the voice and entered the room, where he saw his wife waiting. "Get the bed will ya honey," he said to her. "He's still managed to sleep through this. He must be tired. I bet if I went out and shot baskets right now, he'd snooze right through it."

"Well, you're not doing that tonight, it's too late and we have neighbors."

He gave her a scowl. "A guy should be able to shoot baskets on his own property if he wants too," he paused, "Would you pull that blanket back?"

"No, just set him down for now, we can't just let him sleep in his clothes Milt," she answered.

"Why not?" Hardcastle responded. "He's out like a light, why not just let him sleep?"

"Why not? You want him to sleep in tennis shoes and a jacket all night? You may as well have left him to sleep out in the car, for heavens sake."

"Look, just get the bed, the longer I keep holding him, the more liable he is to wake up here. Do you want that to happen?"

"Of course not." She pulled back the bedspread and blanket and he carefully lay the sleeping child down on the bed, cradling his head until it reached the pillow. Mark never moved a muscle.

"This kid could sleep through World War 3," Milt chuckled.

Tommy came and stood in the doorway, "Dad, I don't feel so well," he whispered.

Both Milt and Nancy turned to see Tommy, holding onto his stomach. "Candy and soda, see what happens?" Nancy said. "There's some Pepto in the bathroom, just give him a teaspoon of that."

"Me?" Milt asked.

"Yes you, I'm not letting this one sleep in his clothes," she pointed to Mark, "And I think you can handle pouring a teaspoon of Pepto, or would you rather handle this?" Hardcastle was not happy with either option, but she was right, he settled for the Pepto. Nancy called out after him, "And bring back one of Tommy's undershirts, from his top drawer. It'll be a little big on him, but it'll work as pajama's for one night."

"Yes dear," replied Milt, who met up with Tommy at the door and turned him around and headed him into the bathroom.

"Let's get these shoes off of you first," Nancy said quietly, with all the care and concern of a mother. She untied the laces and pulled the shoes off and in his sleep, Mark actually helped kick them off. "See, I knew you'd be more comfortable in pajama's won't you?"

The next thing to come off would be the jacket. She really did hate the thought of jostling the little fellow who was sleeping so very soundly, but there really wasn't any other way around it. She moved up on the bed beside him and lifted him up slowly, so that he was leaning against her, and so that she could begin to peel the sleeves of the jacket off of him. She felt him shift a little bit and snuggle against her in an effort to get comfortable. She took off the jacket with relative ease, as he continued to sleep and cuddle against her. While she had him up, she decided to peel the t-shirt he wore off as well. She gently took hold of his left arm and schooched it out of the sleeve, then went to the other side and did the same thing. She saw him shiver a little bit from the now exposed skin. She kept him close in an effort to keep him warm, knowing she simply needed to get the t-shirt over his head. Carefully she eased it off him and watched as his head slipped from left to right and before coming to rest near her shoulder once again. She was just about to lay him down when her hand on his back felt something. She looked and couldn't believe her eyes. There were a number of raised welts across his back and as her fingers went to softly touch them, he let out a little whimper. "I'm sorry honey," she said, carefully holding his head and laying him back down on the bed. She needed Milt back in the room right away. Where did he get welts on his back from? She didn't have much time to give thought to an answer, because right then she got a look at the front of him. His upper arms, stomach and chest were full of dark bruises and what she thought was cigarette burn right near his belly button. "Oh dear heaven, who did this to you?" she wanted to cry. She went to pull off his jeans and found more of the same. By the time she got him settled under the covers, she herself was a mess of emotions.

Milt finally came back to the room. "Tommy's in bed, trying to sleep, we'll have to check on him throughout the night too. Here's the undershirt," he began to say, as he saw tears in her eyes. The boy was still sawing logs under the blanket and sheets. "Nance, what it is? What happened?"

"Someone's been abusing him Milt," she pulled back the covers to let him see the marks. "His back has raised welts on it." Milt had her lift him up so he could see the damage.

The boy's battered body made Milt sick to his stomach. "What's that by his navel?" he asked her.

"I think it's a cigarette burn. There's another one on the back of his leg."

"Who'd do this to him?"

"I don't Milt."

"Well, I sure as hell am going to find out." He handed her the t-shirt and walked out of the room.

Nancy quickly fumbled with the t-shirt and tucked Mark back into bed. She peeked in the next room at Tommy and saw that he had fallen asleep and then she headed downstairs to find Milt.

He sat at his desk and he was already on the phone. He waved her in when he saw her in the doorway.

"Yes, George, I know it's almost 2am here….No, I don't care what time it is there….Are you going to listen to what I have to say or not?...Good….Someone beat the living daylights out of this kid….No….Well, I don't know that yet….Of course we're going to take him to a doctor…first thing tomorrow….George, I'm a cop remember….I know what abuse looks like….give me some credit here, will ya?...They knew what they were doing alright….no place visible…He's even got a couple of cigarette burns….What I'm wondering is, what sort of social workers you got out there in New Jersey?...No one could have checked him...All Nancy did was put him in pajama's to find out….No, I haven't asked him yet….do I need to remind you that its almost 2am….the kid's been a human football for two days…being forward passed out here, he's sleeping right now….most likely exhausted and sure as hell trying to let his body heal up….Yeah, it's bad George…I've seen boxers take less abuse….yeah, alright, I'll file a report tomorrow too…..let me know what you find out from your end…I want whoever did this to him," he glanced to see Nancy standing nearby and winked at her, "And sorry for waking you up, George….yeah, yeah, okay, goodnight." Milt hung up the phone. "George said that there's nothing in the boy's file about any abuse."

"None of that is recent Milton, it could have happened several weeks to a month ago."

"I know Nance, I've seen this sort of thing before."

"How could anyone do that to a child?"

"I don't know," Milt said, running his hands across his face. "We should get to bed ourselves for now. We're gonna need to take him to a doctor first thing tomorrow and I have to file a couple of reports."

OOOOO

Milt Hardcastle couldn't sleep if he wanted to. All he could see when he closed his eyes was the kid's battered body. What he'd give for five minutes alone with the person responsible. He knew better though, he knew that the system would prevail if they could find out who did it to Mark and let the courts handle it the proper way. If only people would report things that they saw or get help if they had a problem with their tempers.

He quietly climbed out of bed and went to the guest room and sat down in the chair across from the bed. The boy hadn't moved a muscle still. He brought in a law book with him, this one on child protective custody cases, and flicked on the soft nightstand table and began to read.

Not quite an hour later, Milt was dozing, his head bobbing up and down, coming close to bumping the book with his forehead. Mark woke up and turned his head toward the light to see the comical sight. He giggled, causing Milt to sit up, wake up and take notice of him.

"Hi," Mark said to him.

"Hi yourself," Milt answered. "What's so funny?"

"You are, you kept nodding your head up and down."

"I was sleeping, just like you should be doing Sport."

"My name's not Sport, its Mark."

"I know that, Sport's a nickname, you know what a nickname is?"

Mark nodded, "Like you call Tommy, Champ?"

Milt gave him a smile, "Exactly. So is it okay if I call you Sport?"

The boy shrugged to say he didn't care one way or the other. "What's your name?"

"Milt."

Mark repeated it, "Milt," having a bit of a problem saying the 'l.'

"Close enough."

"How come you're reading in here?"

"I'm studying for school."

Surprised by the thought of a grown adult sitting at a desk in a school room he asked, "You go to school?"

"Yep, at night."

Mark looked at him perplexed. "Tommy said you're a cop."

"I am, I do that during the day. Do you know what a cop is?"

"'O course I do. You shoot bad people."

"That's not the only thing we do. We help people too."

"Do you have a gun?"

"Yep."

"Did you ever shoot anyone?"

Boy, this kid was blunt, how was he going to get out of this one? He went with what he always relied on, the truth. "Yes, because if I didn't shoot at him, he would have shot at me. Do you understand that?"

Another nod followed by, "I think so. You had to protect yourself, 'cause no one was there to help you."

"Yeah, that's very good and you're exactly right. You're a pretty smart fella." He watched the boy grin from ear to ear. Milt figured now was as good a time as any to get to the heart of the matter. "Do you know what a guardian is?"

The boy flipped onto his side and leaned his head on his elbow. "You mean like a guardian angel? We learnt about them in school, about how everyone has one, but I don't go to that school anymore. I went there when I lived with my Mom."

"Well, sort of like a guardian angel. But a guardian is a real person, just like you and me. It's a guardian's job to protect someone and do what's best for them. And right now, I'm _your_ guardian." Mark didn't make any comments and Milt continued. "And I'm supposed to protect you and in order to do that I need your help."

Mark was curious, "How?"

Milt set the law book on the table and leaned forward in the chair. "I need to know who hurt you Mark."

Mark's face went from happy curiosity to sheer panic and he shook his head no. "I fell, that's all."

"Oh you fell huh? Must have been quite a tumble, do you fall off a mountain maybe?" Milt gave him a little smile to try to lighten up the topic. The kid wasn't biting, he remained stoic.

"No, it was in the house."

Hardcastle raised his eyebrows, "Is that when you got burned too?"

Milt watched and saw him slide his hand down to where one of the cigarette burns was.

Mark nodded affirmatively. "Yeah," was his response, "Right after I fell."

The kid had to be scared to death and someone must have put that fear into him to clam him up. Milt had seen it too many times before. He tried a new tactic, "You must be a clumsy fellow then huh?"

"No, I just fell." Milt watched as that last comment made the boy a bit angry and defensive.

"Well, I just wanted to let you know that like I said, I'm your guardian and I'm also a police man, so I have double duty to protect you from all sorts of things. Not only is it my job, but I want to do it too. I had to ask a judge to let me take care of you in all sorts of ways, like feeding you and buying you candy bars and sending you to school. If someone did hurt you, you can tell me and I have to tell a judge. Nothing's, and I mean absolutely nothing will happen to you and I'll take care of making sure they don't hurt you or anyone else ever again. Do you understand?"

Mark pursed his lips and slowly nodded.

Hardcastle stood up from the chair and went to tuck him back in and the boy immediately scooted away from him to the other edge of the bed. Milt backed off right away. "It's okay, I won't touch you. I'm not gonna hurt you sport. You're safe here. You get some more sleep now, it's still dark out." He grabbed his book and flicked off the light.

He stood in the doorway for a second and saw the boy ease back down into the bed. He threw the covers completely over his head. In a tiny voice he heard him say, "Good night Milt."

"Good night Sport."

OOOOO

Milt and Nancy were up at the crack of dawn. He'd already called the family doctor, Dr. Charlie Freedman and asked if he could take a look at the boy and explained the situation. The doctor readily agreed and told them he'd see him as soon as they brought him in.

In the meantime, Tommy had a little league baseball game scheduled for 10am and Nancy was busy trying to make arrangements for him to get a ride and maybe even stay at a friend's house.

They took a few minutes to have coffee together while the two boys still slept.

"He knows who did it, and he's not talking," Milt began to tell her about their conversation in the middle of the night. "I went to tuck him in and he backed away from me in total fear. It makes me sick Nance, who'd do it to a kid? I want to call George again in a little bit. I'll start with whoever's had him for the last seven months. Maybe there's something in there background and I'm sure as hell gonna prevent them from doing it to any other kid."

"I hope Charlie can give us some help for what we can do for him. I'd hate to think he's going to be afraid of us," she replied.

"Besides time, I don't know what else we can do. We all will have to learn to trust each other."

Just then, Tommy and Mark headed into the kitchen, which seemed to be the last stop on the morning tour. "Remember, don't touch anything ever on my Dad's desk in the den, ever, never, ever…." They heard Tommy repeat the warning and looked at each other and smiled. "And this is the kitchen," he said with Mark in tow next to him. They both were already dressed. Mark wore his clothes from the night before, minus the jacket, while Tommy was geared up in his baseball uniform. One of Mark's shoes was untied and his t-shirt wasn't tucked in. "Hi Mom, Hi Dad, what's for breakfast?" Tommy asked. "I gotta game at ten, right?"

"Yes you do and Mr. Franke and Josh will be coming to pick you up," Nancy said.

"Aren't you coming?" he asked them.

"We'll try sweetie, but Dad and I have to take Mark somewhere first," Mark's ears perked up at the mention of his name. "Come on now, sit down and eat your breakfast." She had cereal, toast and juice ready for both of them. "How'd you sleep Mark?"

"Fine," he answered, "I made up the bed too, just like my Mom taught me."

"You did?" she asked him surprised. "That's very nice of you, thank you."

"You're welcome."

They couldn't help but notice how he was being on his very best behavior, except when it came to eating. He quickly plowed through what was set in front of him and grabbed the box of cereal in front of him and poured himself another bowl full.

When they had finished, Milt suggested they go out front and play catch for a little bit.

"Come on Mark, I got a glove that you can use," Tommy said, with Mark following happily.

"I'm gonna give George a quick call," Milt said. He walked over to the phone and dialed up his east coast connection. "George, it's Milt Hardcastle….no we're going over there in a little bit….what have you got so far?...What?...He's been in and out of eight homes in seven months? With a stop at an aunt and uncle's too?...Humph….okay…wait…give me there names?" He wrote all the names down. "Nah…I'll take 'em downtown and run them myself to see if anybody jumps out….yeah, you run 'em too. Listen I'll call you later okay?" He hung up the phone and started talking to Nancy, who was busy cleaning up the kitchen. "Did you hear that? The kid's been a ping pong ball for seven months. Someone really needs to do something to fix this system. Here his mother dies, no one can find the father and he gets dumped with someone who beats the crap out of him. And they think there's nothing wrong with that picture."

"Go see how their doing Milt, the Franke's should be here in about twenty minutes," she said.

He gave her a nod and first went to set the list on his desk, then he went and stood at the front screen door, he was about to go outside, but he stood back and watched them playing catch for a few minutes.

Tommy was busy 'teaching' the much smaller Mark, who was intent on keeping up with the older boy. Mark was missing a lot of catches and throwing wildly. Tommy was patient though and he called out to Mark to 'think' before he threw. He tossed him back an easy throw, which he missed and went chasing after, as Tommy called out to him, "Now relax when you toss it back." Mark retrieved it and calmly tossed it back, hitting Tommy in the glove where he stood. "Perfect, much better," he grinned. "Okay, now, I'll throw you one and count you down from five, remember stay calm. Ready?"

He tossed him a ball, which Mark missed again, but eagerly went after, calling out, "I slipped on the grass," as he was chasing it, "Sorry," he added.

All the while, Tommy counted down from five, four, three….as Mark got the ball and again calmly tossed it back perfectly.

"Good job again. Here's a pop up now!" He heaved the ball up softly and Mark cleanly made a good catch of it. He gave him a few more pop-up, all of which Mark fielded perfectly. "Now here's a grounder," he tossed the ball across the grass. "Aim it for my glove, I'm on first."

Mark was quickly excelling at this. As Milt watched silently, he thought to himself, there was no way this could fall that much and hurt himself to match up with the bruising he had. No, he'd definitely been abused.

"Try to bare hand one," Tommy was saying.

"What's a bare hand?" Mark shouted.

"Here, I'll show you, toss me a grounder," he instructed. Mark did so, "As it come rolling to you, you grab it with your bare hand and fire it off to first base." He completed the demonstration.

"Let me try a bare hander," he shouted.

"Okay, here goes," he rolled one a little too hard and Mark over ran it and missed it. "My fault, toss it back and I'll give you another one." He tried it again and rolled a slower one and Mark cleaner bare handed it and made the throw to first." He grinned when he realized he'd done it.

"I bet Dad will let you play on a team Mark, you're really good for a kid. Did you play on a team in New Jersey?""

"Nope."

They went back to playing a nice easy game of catch and Milt decided to come out of the house.

"Hey Dad, Mark can do a bare-hander, want to see?" Tommy asked.

"Sure, let her rip," Milt said as he sat down on the stoop to watch them.

Tommy tossed a grounder and Mark anxiously bare-handed it and threw it wildly to Tommy, who had to run and chase it down.

"Sorry," Mark hollered after him.

"It's okay, just remember, relax, ain't that right Dad?"

"Isn't, isn't that right," Milt reminded him.

Tommy got the ball and tossed a high fly to Mark who dove to get it, but missed. Tommy ran over to Milt and sat down beside him. "I hope you can see some of my game. I'm playing 2nd base today."

"We'll see, looks like the Franke's are here, as the car pulled up. Have fun and do your best, be a good sport, okay Champ?"

"I will, see you later Mark."

"Bye Tommy." Mark called out as he continued to toss up fly balls for himself to catch.

"Let's go Mark, we have a couple of stops to make ourselves and maybe we can go see part of Tommy's game," Milt said to him.

"Okay."

OOOOO

Mark was busy having a few x-rays taken and Charlie had a chance to discuss the situation with Milt and Nancy, while the technician and a nurse took him for the tests.

"You're right Milt, he's clearly been abused and those are cigarette burns. The good news is that there's no sign of sexual molestation. It appears he's only been battered.

"Only?" Nancy reacted shocked.

"I'm sorry, bad choice of words," Charlie apologized.

"Anyway to tell how long ago it happened?" Milt asked.

"Not really, there's bruising on top of bruising. And the burns, they look to be maybe a month or two old. They're healing up okay though."

"He'll be permanently scarred for life Charlie, how is that okay?" Nancy asked him.

Milt reached over and gave her knee a pat. "Calm down honey, we all want to help him."

"Other than that, he's a healthy six year old boy. He's pretty funny too, he asked me how long I'd been a doctor? That's the first time I had to give a kid my credentials. Then he wanted to know if I had to tell you about him. I told him I did. He says, get this, he said, 'that's okay, Milt's my guardian. He's got a right to know.' The kid's wise beyond his years."

"Yeah, that's a fact," Milt said, letting a smile paint across his face.

"Anyway, let me take a look at the x-rays. There's nothing broken now, but I'll be able to see if anyone knocked him around that hard. I'll call you later this afternoon, all right?"

They stood up to shake hands just as Mark was brought back into the room.

"Hey Mark, did you get one of these yet?" Charlie asked, picking up a jar filled with suckers on his desk. Mark shook his head no. "Well, go ahead, pick one out."

"Can I take one for Tommy too?"

"Absolutely," Charlie said. "That's a great idea."

OOOOO

A few more days passed and Mark didn't bother to say anything more about seeing the doctor or about the bruises on his body and every time Milt or Nancy tried to bring up the topic, the boy slammed the door on discussing it. Nothing turned up on any of the people either and that wasn't sitting well with Milt in the slightest. He couldn't let it go that someone beat this boy up and no one would have to pay the consequences. The x-rays showed that Mark had had four broken ribs that had healed. That made Milt even angrier. He had one other idea.

It was a rainy evening and Milt got home from his night class and found the two boys inside watching TV. He went and sat behind his desk to study, but got caught up in watching the two of them start to tease and pick at each other on the floor as any two boys would, rolling into each other, and lightly kicking at each other with stocking feet and so on. "Hey, you fellas knock that off," Milt said, seeing them getting a bit more rambunctious than normal. They quit for a few minutes, giggling all the while, till they started in again. Then someone socked the other and the accusations started to fly, "You started it, no, you hit me first, and on and on." Milt stood up from behind the desk and told them each to sit in a chair until they could cool off.

This would help his plan. They both sat quietly and watched the old western and Milt picked up the phone. "George, hi, yeah, it's Milt, how about sending me the pictures of all those folks….yeah, all of them George…..yes, that's my idea….I'm gonna show them to him and see what happens….No, send them overnight….good…thanks."

He hung up the phone and saw Mark looking right at him, then he turned his attention back to the movie.

OOOOO

The forecast wasn't a good one, it was raining for the third day and that meant that two little boys were stuck inside again. Milt had gotten the package of pictures from George and had the file he'd started on his desk. The boys were again watching TV as Milt took out the pictures one by one and set them on his desk. All the while he knew that Mark was watching every move he made and he knew he knew what the pictures were. Tommy didn't have a clue.

Hardcastle left them all spread out on his desk and got up and went into the kitchen. Hopefully the six year old would take the bait.

It didn't take long, Mark popped up from the floor and went over to the desk.

"Hey, remember what I said about Dad's desk?" Tommy called out from the floor. "You shouldn't be over there, he'll get mad."

Mark walked around back and started to stare at the pictures on the desk. He recognized all of them, and he reached out his hand ever so slightly to touch one of them.

"What'd I just tell you!" Tommy was right behind him, pulling his hand back. "We're not supposed to touch anything up here."

Milt heard the commotion from the kitchen and went to watch what was happening.

Mark wasn't moving and he wasn't backing down from Tommy's warnings either. His hand moved toward the pictures again.

This time Tommy grabbed his hand and held on, but not before they both caused some of the pictures to fall to the ground. "Now we did it, Dad's gonna be mad."

And in walked Milt. "What are you guys doing up there?"

They both stood like minutemen.

"Nothing Dad," Tommy said.

"It doesn't look like nothing Tommy, it looks like you were doing something that I've told you not to do."

"He didn't do it," Mark finally chimed in.

"We both did it Dad," Tommy admitted. "But I tried to tell him not to, I warned him and warned him."

Milt had walked over and towered over both of them. He leaned down to pick up the pictures that were close to Tommy and Mark thought Milt was going to hit him.

"Don't hit him," he cried out.

Milt stopped dead in his tracks. "I'm not gonna hit him Mark, I'm just picking up the pictures. Tommy, why don't you go up stairs for a little bit?"

"Are we in trouble?" He asked.

"No, go on now, just do like I ask ya, okay Champ?"

Tommy nodded and ran off.

Milt finished reaching down and picked up the pictures and set them back on top of the desk. Then he took a seat in his chair. Mark didn't move an inch.

"Am I in trouble for touching them?"

"Nope, as long as you promise never to touch anything on this desk again, unless I tell you you can. Understand?"

Mark nodded ever so slightly, unsure of what was going to happen next.

"Remember that first night we talked? And I told you that if you would tell me who hurt you, I'd make sure they'd never hurt you or anyone else again?" He nodded again and his eyes got wider. "One of these pictures is that person isn't it?" The boy didn't move or say a thing. "You know what? I'm thirsty for a pop, I'm gonna go get one, you want me to bring you back one too?" The boy shook his head no. "Okay, how about this, I'll be right back and maybe while I'm gone you can straighten up this mess you made here, how's that?"

"On your desk?" Mark questioned with suspicion in his eyes and voice.

"Yep, I'm giving you permission." Milt got up and went into the kitchen. He hoped the kid would pick out the picture. He waited as long as he could stand it and then went back in. Mark stood in the same place but the pictures had been picked up and stacked. There were three of them near the front of the desk.

Milt sat down again and took a swig from his bottle of Coke. "Not too bad a job. Let me just get these last three." His hand started to pick up the remaining pictures but Mark reached over and put his hand on top of his preventing him from doing so. "Are you trying to tell me something Sport?" He got the stare back as his answer. "Mark, you have to tell me, but I promise if you tell me, they won't ever hurt you again."

Tears welled up in his eyes and he started to nod. Quietly he said, "They did." And he pointed to all three pictures.

"All three of them?" Milt asked not wanting to believe what this kid was saying he'd endured. The man and woman were his aunt and uncle, the third was a man named Judson. It was the last temporary home he'd been placed into.

He nodded again, this time even more assured and he started to bawl, "Yes, they hit me," he pointed to the man and woman, and he, he burnt me and hurt my stomach," he said pointing his finger at the third picture. He dropped his head down and cried even harder and finally fell forward into Milt arms, unable to bear his burden alone any longer. Hardcastle gathered him up immediately and tried to give him some comfort. "Why'd…..they…. do…. it?" He managed to get out word by word in between the sobs. He asked Milt over and over again. "Why'd…..they…..hurt…..me Milt?" Tears were pouring out of him and he was trying to dry them on Milt's shirt. Milt simply held onto him tightly and answered him honestly.

"I don't know why Sport, but it's all over now, I promise you that. No one's gonna hit you anymore."

"You….gonna….shoot…'em?" He pulled back and looked into his eyes to ask them

Hardcastle smiled. "No, I'm not gonna shoot them, but I'm gonna help put them in jail and you just helped me do that. Good work, Sport, you just helped me solve another case. You okay for now?"

Mark sniffled and composed himself then nodded the affirmative. "Listen, you go upstairs and get Tommy and Nancy and tell 'em were going out for dinner." There he was, wanting to buy things again.

"Okay," he turned to leave and then he stopped. "I'm sorry about touching stuff on your desk Milt."

"I know you are, don't forget, from now on, only if I give you permission, remember?"

"I will." He spun around and fell back in his arms once more and said, "Thanks for guarding me Milt."

"Any time Sport, any time."

The End


End file.
